


And A Krampus In A Paopu Tree

by underworlds



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Axel is Sexy Krampus, Bartender Axel, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Holiday Blues, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Photographer Roxas, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28445448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underworlds/pseuds/underworlds
Summary: Roxas didn’t expect to wake up to a horse skull in his bed on Christmas Eve.Luckily, Axel is a walking history book for bizarre, crude, holiday traditions.2020 Holiday Exchange for Kari!
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Demyx/Zexion (Kingdom Hearts), Naminé/Xion (Kingdom Hearts), Tifa Lockhart/Reno
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	And A Krampus In A Paopu Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kawree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawree/gifts).



Roxas hadn’t gotten caught up in any shady deals, hadn’t inherited an inter-generational vendetta, or insulted a powerful family of mafiosos with a penchant for Pinot Grigio, so it came as a surprise when he woke up to a horse skull tangled in his reasonably priced bed sheets with him. 

It did that is, until after a few seconds of heart-pounding cursing and flailing towards the far wall, he remembered who he was dating and what day of the year it was. Before he could even get a good look at the massive cranium, there was an all too jolly knock at the door.

“Roxas, is that your dulcet caroling I hear? Spreading vulgar Christmas Eve cheer?”

Roxas heaved a mighty sigh at the singsong voice through the bedroom door, put his head to his blanket-tangled knees as if hitting turbulence, and groaned to the universe, “Axel, why the hell is National Velvet in our bed?!”

“Mari Lywd show you a good time, darling?” Axel innocently inquired from behind the door, tone lilting. “I’m hurt, I’m the only one who is supposed to make you scream and sing.”

“Who!?”

“Mari Lywd,” Axel repeated, drawing out the foreign syllables in a long note, as if that clarified anything at all. “They’ll be joining us for the festivities. Won’t you allow me to enter, please?”

Roxas lifted his head, glaring at his bedfellow, or rather what was left of them, before scrubbing his knuckles over his eyes. “Why are you rhyming?”

“Tradition!” Axel declared, much to Roxas’s immediate eye rolling. 

He’d heard that answer so many times these past few weeks, months really, that he didn’t know why even bothered to ask. He learned more about co-opted Christmas traditions from Axel than the did from all the children’s programming and religious propaganda of his youth. The red suit, the pine trees, the Yule log might as well have come with a warranty notice of ‘Hey, this is pagan as hell’.

Axel, for all his own hedonistic and cynical genetic makeup and upbringing, thrived on the holiday season. From October to New Years it was a parade and bewildering crockpot of various holiday traditions in their household. The straggling Halloween decorations from months back had mingled with the current Christmas chachkis in their living room, creating an impromptu Tim Burton installation. Roxas and Xion had learned a wealth of useless information over this season. But they had learned to make latkes, that was a highlight not to be forgotten.

“I can only be let in under a certain condition!”

Roxas flopped onto his back beside the skull, which he shook his own head at, expecting some kind of sympathy, and threw his forearm over his face. “Which is?”

“You deny me entry through song and I keep asking,” his boyfriend explained. “Isn’t that a crazy thing?”

“Come in,” Roxas curtly replied to end the madness, narrowing his eyes under the shadow of his wrist when the door opened to reveal his grinning pain in the ass of a partner.

Axel was wearing an offensively gaudy green sweater, complete with pompoms, and even from this distance Roxas was pretty sure he saw tinsel in his unintentionally but conveniently festive scarlet hair. As he approached, Roxas had to snort once the embroidery on the sweater became clear, complete with a large glittered arrow pointing down.

“‘Jingle These Bells?”

“Tis the season!” Axel smiles, bright and white, stooping to press a kiss to a grumbling Roxas's forehead. 

“And this,” Roxas gestured to the eternally grinning skull. “Is part of the season too?”

“Yeah I’ve gotta attach the skull to a pole with a sheet and ribbons and shit and then we have to parade around with it and people give us alcohol and food.” Axel dropped another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Demyx wanted to be Leader, but he’s textbook Merryman.”

Roxas arched a brow. “You say ‘have to’ like it’s an obligation rather than a choice.”

“Roxas,”’Axel playfully frowned. “You should know better than anyone that this season is rife with more obligations than choices.”

Roxas laughed and swung his pillow, nearly sending Mari to shatter all over the floor.

* * *

Yawning, Roxas shuffled into the kitchen, which had become a landing strip for various decorated baked goods and leftovers. The blonde wrinkled his nose at the offensive sight of a tin of peppermint bark as he poured a cup of coffee. It seemed like everyone, their grandmother, and their uncle’s dermatologist, all flocked to the same place to buy the exact same metal box of toothpaste and chocolate flavored, bicuspid shattering sheets. Roxas planned on pawning it off on Riku. He leaned against the counter as he took the first renewing sip, aware of the lingering heat emanating from the stove.

Xion had left some freshly baked cookies on the stovetop, the dough molded into the shapes of trees, dreidels, bones, paw prints, and various other themed shapes. There was a note beside them in her bubbly handwriting that indicated these ones were edible for humans as well as dogs, not that that had ever stopped them. Their roommate was undoubtedly at the animal shelter, pushing to clear the adoptions before Christmas Day, as she had been all week. 

“What time you gotta head to the bar to set up?” Roxas asked, biting the corner of a dreidel.

“Gonna head over in like an hour,” Axel answered, adjusting the paopu on the top of the tree with an effortless extension of his tattooed arm, an endeavor that would have taken utilizing a stool for Roxas. “You meeting Nami?”

The blonde nodded, turning over the carton of milk which had a Post It that shouted ‘SAVE SOME FOR BIG POPPA’ at him along with a crude drawing of Santa. 

“Well remind her to swing by to do my makeup for the party.”

Axel and Xion had managed to convince Cid to close the garage for the long holiday weekend, a rare treat, which meant Axel wouldn’t have the looming head of work shortening the evening. Not that Axel was ever a disciple of the concept of curfews. After what was sure to prove to be a long, alcohol-fueled evening, Roxas welcomed the idea of spending the rest of the weekend sprawled over the couch, pulling wrapping paper out of inconceivable places.

Roxas glanced at him accusingly.“You still haven’t told me what she’s doing.”

Axel passed him in the kitchen and took the opportunity to ruffle his hair. “And we’re gonna keep it that way, my little drummer boy.”

* * *

To passersby, the blondes did fit the couple image that had been ascribed to them since they were in light-up Velcro sneakers. Namine’s white coat, matching hat, and the cream colored scarf wrapped around her shoulders enhanced the contrast of her blue eyes but hid the gentle snowfall while Roxas’s dark bomber jacket invited the gentle flurries to cluster on the peaks of his shoulders.

Namine had her left arm wrapped around Roxas’s right as they leisurely walked down the Main Street, observing the decorated storefronts and city lights as they did every year. They took time to linger at many of the older, established shops that had seen them through their childhoods and teenage angst, chatting with the familiar faces of owners and employees that had developed more wrinkles and grey hair and those that had grown up themselves.

“Feeling better now?” Namine asked in her soft voice after Roxas tossed a coffee cup into the nearby fairy-lit garbage can. 

“More human and less like that snow beast thing that tries to eat Luke Skywalker,” Roxas confirmed.

“Maybe all it needed was a second cup of coffee too.” Namine smiled, well versed in the art of Roxas and Caffeine. “I won’t tell Xion you didn’t remember it’s called a wampa.”

“Thank you,” Roxas grinned, walking them over to a bench. “Speaking of, did your present end up working out?”

“Yes, thank goodness.” Namine settled in her seat in front of the bistro, crossing her stocking clad legs and opening the cafe wrapper from her purse. “I received the confirmation yesterday.”

Roxas joined her for the break and accepted the offered half of a cinnamon scone. “She’s gonna lose her mind, Nami. In the good way.”

“As long as it’s in the good way,” Namine replied with a hint of color to her pale face, biting her lip. “You really think she will?”

“You got her a sleepover at a wolf conservation center where you get a private tour, sleep under the goddamn stars, and hear wolves howling!” Roxas leveled her with a stare before loading as much sarcasm as he could muster. “No, she’s gonna absolutely hate it!”

The petite girl smiled, ducking her head to hide it in her scarf even as she leaned into Roxas’s shoulder and waiting half embrace. It made him happy, seeing Namine like this. It wasn’t always so. Unlike him, who had the tendency to stubbornly not allow himself to be happy, Namine hadn’t been dealt a fair hand but never complained about it. Everyone had their own trauma and wounds, of course, some leaving more unsightly scars than others, but Namine was such a good person in Roxas’s eyes that if anyone deserved one of those fuzzy Hallmark movie moments, it was her.

They walked back to the train station, where Namine was going to catch the next one and meet Axel at Seventh Heaven to do his makeup

“Did you finish all the arrangements for Axel’s?” Namine asked, waving at a little girl who kept staring at her from behind her mother’s skirt.

“Yeah,” Roxas rubbed the back of his neck a little sheepishly. “Still don’t know if he’s gonna like it.”

Namine patted his arm reassuringly. “He will, it was a lovely idea, Roxas.”

“I just don’t want him to think…” Roxas frowned, thinking of the words and looking up into the snow speckled sky. “It’s too much, y’know.”

Namine nodded, understanding. Axel hadn’t been dealt a generous hand either, had spent much of his youth and teenage years as a ward of the state after his parents lost custody or fucked off, depending on which you were speaking of. He hadn’t grown up with a carefully curated tree, an expected bounty of presents, or holiday vacations like Roxas had. Perhaps the only photographic evidence of Axel’s childhood Christmases was on their tree, a grainy photo of he and Reno in comparison to the dozens of Sora and Roxas in matching outfits throughout the years. There was a favorite where both twins were on Santa’s knees and while Sora was enamored and animated, Roxas broke the fourth wall by glaring directly at the camera. Axel didn’t have those memories. The Axel of their younger years would have likely seen such a gift as a charity case, would have likely bristled at the thought. This older Axel, though…

“I know we don’t have to do big bullshit romantic gestures, but I dunno this one felt right.”

“You want to make memories with him,” Namine summed, her suede boots clicking against the cobblestones. “And you think he deserves it, right?”

“‘Course he does. He’s talked about Ireland for years. I learned more crazy Irish mythology and history this year from him than I did on either of my actual trips there.”

“Then trust him enough to be honest with you,” Namine encouraged as they approached the platform. “I think he will be so happy.”

When Namine released him, kissed his cheek, and turned to go, he couldn’t help but ask, “What exactly are you doing to his face?”

Namine merely smiled, silently, and stepped toward the opening doors of the trolley.

“As the person who regularly has physical contact with that face, I think I deserve to know!” Roxas called as the trolley doors began to close, leaving him to only speculate and with the sound of Namine’s sweet, twinkling, foreboding laugh.

* * *

“What the _fuck?”_

Tifa glanced up at the deadpan comment, looking over the crown of Larxene’s head to see what could only be described as if Santa, Jim Carrey’s Grinch, and Guillermo del Toro all had a baby and that baby walked in the door.

“It’s Axel,” Tifa chuckled, pivoting a hip against the bar. “Are you really surprised?”

Larxene, dressed sharply in an emerald green pantsuit, shook her head, and waited for the inevitable moment the monstrosity ambled over to this end of the bar. For now, he was depositing a pole with what looked like a massive skull attached to it in the corner, Namine following in tow. She giggled and folded up her supplies on the back table when Reno, Axel’s brother, emerged from the bathroom and jumped at the sight, repeating Larxene’s words with a louder decibel.

“And to think, I dated that.” Larxene noted, swirling a matching green stiletto nail along the rim of her martini glass.

Tifa chuckled and topped her off, adding a fresh olive. “Which one of them do you think will end up in more trouble by the end of the night?”

Larxene watched the two redheads snicker and shove at each other when Reno tried to snatch the horns off, sending them careening into one of the barstools.

“Who says it has to be either or?” Larxene took a long sip.

* * *

Roxas flitted between greeting new but familiar faces to lingering with whichever cluster roped him in for conversation or shots, over and over. Rinse, lather, repeat. It wasn’t until Sora entered and hurled himself as though he was the flying reindeer he pretended to be at him that everything really fell into place. Roxas nodded at Riku over Sora’s squealing shoulder and endured the feeling of Sora putting reindeer antlers on his head. Riku gave him a sympathetic look, pointedly glancing toward the top of his own head where a bobbing duo of snow people sat.

Sora listed off the activities they’d done that day, making Roxas promise to be over at the house at 2 PM sharp, hangover or not, before diving into the throng of merry patrons, leaving Riku to trail in his wake. It wasn’t until he got a text from Kairi to prepare himself that Roxas started watching the employee stocking garnished doorway expectantly, where he could see Axel’s own hanging.

The blonde photographer laughed over the rim of his beer bottle when the group strode in five minutes, led by who could only be Axel, regardless of the horns, chains, and exaggerated makeup. Kairi and Xion followed after him, joined by Demyx, Xigbar, Hayner, Zexion, and Reno. They carried Mari Lywd, obviously having made good on their promise to parade around town and accepting drinks in exchange for rhymes. Axel eventually strode up to Roxas at the bar, birch rod dangling at his hip and gave him a wide smile, complete with false fangs.

“Sexy Krampus?” Roxas asked, giving him a thorough once over.

“I make any costume sexy, babe.” Axel winked with one immaculately blended and winged eye.

About two hours later, when everyone was nice and liquored up, Axel called everyone to attention with a loud clattering of chains. Once silence fell, Xion climbed up on to the stage, which was really just a raised platform of wood, with Demyx behind her on drums, Kairi at the second mic holding bells, and Cid on the guitar.

“Hi,” Xion began, tugging at the hem of her dark purple denim jacket. “I’m gonna ask all of you to bear with me for a few minutes so I can try to give a very special girl one of those Love Actually moments…”

Roxas grinned over at Namine, who looked startled and was covering her mouth with one delicate hand, but did not have a chance to give her a nudge before the music started. Xion’s voice was beautiful as she earnestly and softly led the crowd into a cover of ‘Make You Mine This Season’ by Tegan and Sara. 

Sora could be spotted off to the right, bouncing animatedly almost in time with the beat, Riku at his side with his own proud smile as he watched Xion put herself in a very vulnerable position. Reno was whistling in the corner before being shushed by a pointed punch in the arm by Tifa. All the while, despite cheap lights, uneven floors, and holes in the drywall, Xion crooned into the mic as if it were a stadium show.

Roxas felt his diligently nonchalant exoskeleton exterior chip, splinter, and crumble watching how the generic lights reflected off the Atlantic blue of Namine’s eyes and caught the opalescent trickle of tears. Xion, her face pink from emotion and exertion, smiled wide enough for the dimple in her left cheek to pop as she went through the final chorus with renewed confidence. Kairi hit the harmonies behind her, beaming her own proud grin in her pink elf costume and shaking her bells in time. Demyx made kissy faces as he hit the more subtle drumbeats and Cid, roped in by an old-school love or music and moreso his fondness for Xion, played with his customary toothpick. 

Roxas clapped enthusiastically when Xion descended the ramshackle stage to catch Namine in an embrace. The blonde’s arms looped around Xion’s belted waist, her typically shy smile open and shining with laughter against Xion’s ear. Dark haired Xion spun her around on her heels for a breathless few moments.

“Fuckin’ adorable!” a voice in his ear said as a pair of arms wrapped around his own waist from behind. 

Roxas leaned back into the tall, red coated frame. “Them or me?”

Axel, for all his makeup and fangs, still managed his customary grin. “You, always, but in this moment I’m talkin’ about the girls. Gonna make me cry and ruin this wicked paint job.”

“Yeah,” Roxas smiled serenely, feeling a sensation that might just be holiday cheeer, watching as Namine cupped Xion’s pink face and kissed her softly to the raucous cheers and jingling bells of the crowd. “They are.”

* * *

The party carried on much the same and by the time 1 AM rolled around and everyone screamed their holiday announcements, Roxas was feeling ready to roast some chestnuts from the comfort of his own home. He’d taken his obligatory photos with everyone, managing and arranging quite a few creative setups to create lasting photographic evidence of the holiday shenanigans. Let it never be said that Roxas stood by and didn’t coordinate the most flattering poses for his friends.

Afterwards, he sat in a chair beside a standing Axel who had since removed his fangs after the glue began to dissolve after the fourth shot, and was regaling Demyx with some very important information.

“So you’re telling me that mistletoe is jizz?” Demyx asked disbelievingly, widely sweeping an arm.

“That’s what I’m saying, man.” Axel confirmed with an all too amused air, like repeating this information to each unsuspecting soul fulfilled him, which it probably did.

“What are you flailing about?” Zexion inquired as he approached.

Axel shrugged. “Mistletoe.” 

“Mistlesperm!” Demyx loudly interjected.

“Beg pardon?” Zexion arched his one visible eyebrow.

“Okay, okay,” Demyx clapped a hand to the dark haired man’s shoulder. “Zexion, have you ever heard about this shit how mistletoe is actually, like, cum?”

“He’s actually correct,” Zexion said mildly with a sip of his non-alcoholic beer. “Not words I often hear myself saying…”

“That’s insane!” Demyx crowed. “So we’ve been kissing under jizzberries?!”

“Depends which culture you’re talking about. Frigga the Norse goddess, her tears became the berries because Loki used mistletoe to kill her son,” Zexion explained, accompanied by Axel’s affirmative gesturing and nodding. “Whereas the Druids believed it represented the sperm of the Gods and an aphrodisiac. Even though it’s very poisonous.”

“Women were often forced to kiss a man if they met under it, y’know cause the dude ‘rightfully earned it...” Axel rolled his eyes. “And they’d have bad luck in love if they turned it down. Cause, y’know, misogyny.”

Even though the line of conversation was entertaining, Roxas had the foresight to know when the wall was approaching and tugged at the corner of Axel’s collar, drawing his attention.

“Ready to hit it?” He asked perceptively, brushing his knuckles against Roxas’s cheek.

“Gotta get in bed,” Demyx nodded, looking at Roxas’s antlers. “Or else Santa won’t bring you your carrots.”

“Cutest little reindeer isn’t he?” Axel asked, nudging Roxas’s nose with his own, at which Roxas snapped his teeth threateningly. “Okay, Jack Frost, message received! Let’s jingle on home.”

Roxas was a proponent of Irish goodbyes, but spent the extra ten minutes going around the room bidding merry wishes and accepting hugs, kisses, and one very wet smooch to his temple by a very drunk Reno, whom Tifa promised was going to be sleeping it off upstairs. When they exited, tucked under his Krampus’s shoulder, for the long walk home, Roxas felt all the anxiety of the season, of the gift giving, and their inevitable reactions fall away. If worse came to worse, he’d get a few birch rod swats to his ass.

* * *

By the time Axel had turned his key in the front door, the shots had crept up on Roxas, who was giggling.

“So what’s the deal with Easter then?”

Axel grinned, chuckling ominously as he opened the door, “I’ll tell you in a couple months. Why spoil the surprise?”

“You’re gonna tell me that the Easter Bunny is some weird sex symbol,” Roxas accused, none too subtly groping at the back of Axel’s jeans. “That it’s a dominatrix.”

The redhead laughed and shuttled his tipsy little elf inside, delighting in how a frown of desperate concentration was plain on Roxas’s face as Axel walked them backwards. Axel eventually wrapped one arm around Roxas’s waist in kind, right around where he nearly crashed into the end table. When the blonde started swaying with more deliberate intentions, Axel picked up Roxas’s unoccupied hand and matched him.

“Are we dancing?” 

“You bet, sugarplum,” Roxas slurred.

Axel snickered, sweeping them around the living room in a lazy waltz. “Sugarplum?”

“S’Christmasy,” Roxas argued, the syllables blending together. “Nutcracker and shit.”

“Yes, yes it is, Roxas.” Axel smiled indulgently, taking their dance past the tree and depositing his partner on to the couch. “Stay here, I’m gonna get some hot chocolate.”

“Marshmallows!” 

In the meantime, with his demand heard. Roxas nuzzled his cheek against one of the throw pillow abominations, eye catching the light reflecting off the vanguard of icicles through the window on the balcony. The festive string lights across the way created a fractal of green and red along the sharp edge of the ice, almost offensively appropriate. 

Axel returned with two mugs, both towered with mini marshmallows, and joined him on the couch. Roxas eagerly accepted his mug with careful fingers, cradling the base with one palm and wrapping his fingers around the handle. It was a heat-reactive ceramic that eventually showed a collage of photos Sora assembled for a holiday gift.

He made it halfway through the hot chocolate before starting to doze against Axel’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure if the redhead had even finished his own treat, but knew by the way Axel stood up and reached for him that he was about to get shuttle service to bed. Roxas, for his part, yawned and sluggishly but instinctively wrapped an arm around Axel’s neck as he was lifted and carried. Through the warm, chocolate-scented haze he could hear the faint jingle of the bells attached to Axel’s hat with each stride. The violet glow of the bathroom nightlight passed across his narrow field of vision as they rounded the corner to their joint bedroom. When

Axel lowered him onto his back on the mattress, both sooner and late for his liking, Roxas didn’t release his hold.

He was barely aware of making a disagreeable sound to stop him from moving, his own focus consumed by the sight of Axel’s softly smiling face above him, white and bright as Christmas morning was proving to be.

“What, baby?” he asked with an amused lilt and an unspoken promise that he’d provide whatever Roxas asked.

It was the combination of Baileys and Christmas magic, which was also Baileys, that had him preening beneath the overhanging pom-pom of Axel’s hat at the pet name.

“D’you have a good Christmas?” 

“Eve?” Axel corrected, charmed by the slurred speech.

“Eve whatever,” Roxas confirmed. “S’Christmas now.”

“Uh-huh,” Axel hummed and lowered himself to the mattress. “It was great! Sure beats the shit years.”

Roxas turned on his side to face the older man, which made the room spin for a brief moment, and studied his face. He could clearly remember teenage Axel again, all edge, with a mocking smirk or a sneer for anybody who tried to provide some structure and ignorant bliss to his already decidedly not structured nor blissful life. Roxas thought back to that Axel, before they were together, in a thin leather jacket, chain smoking beneath a side street awning while the snow silently fell, wondering if he was just one of those idiots who chose the principle of maintaining a certain image rather than not freezing to death.

He must have taken a while, weighing how much Axel had changed and how much he remained the same. His face had filled out, he’d gotten a couple of his slightly crooked teeth straightened, there was more ink, more piercings, but also an energy of peace that would have been unthinkable back then, when he was all Molotov and no cocktail. But he was still gorgeous in that frustrating way of his.

“We’re gonna wake up,” Axel began, affectionately stroking a strand of Roxas’s hair. “And it’s gonna be merry as fuck. The only question is, will it be pancakes before presents or after?”

“After,” Roxas replied sagely. “You’ll get syrup all over your new shit.”

The redhead laughed, the sight making Roxas’s heart swell.

“Fair point,” Axel conceded. “Alright, presents first, then pancakes, then we’re gonna watch some redundant movie of Xion’s choosing, and we’ll eventually drag our asses over to Sora’s. Make other people cook us dinner, come home, watch some more shit and have Christmas nightcaps together.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t schedule in Christmas sex,” Roxas observed with a wry, drunk smile.

Axel’s own turned knowing and sleazy, a smile that would send any good, God-fearing Catholic lady running for the hills or the nearest confessional booth. He swept his calloused hand from its place at the soft hair behind Roxas’s heavily pierced ear, slowly and purposefully down the length of Roxas’s frame, lingering at his throat where the blonde leaned into the tantalizing touch, to rest at the small of his back and draw them closer together.

“The best presents,” Axel purred, maintaining eye contact as he nudged Roxas’s nose with his own. “Are surprises, aren’t they?”

Roxas tore the jingling, horned hat off Axel’s head, pulled him by the soft white-lined collar even closer, and tangled his legs with the redhead’s own absurdly long ones. 

“Hurry down the chimney then, Krampus.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
